Cold Cup of Joe: A Phyllis Fanfiction
by Humbi
Summary: A cynical pelican fleeing a stained past, Phyllis works the night shift at the Post Office: unlike her sister Pelly, customer service is her LAST priority! But when her abusive husband returns for revenge, Phyllis must befriend the villagers, or else...
1. Forward, Prologue

. : F o r w a r d : .

"NOW, YOU LISTEN TO ME, WOMAN..." A shaken fist, a quivering lip.

"No...NO, YOU LISTEN TO ME! I'M THROUGH WITH YOU AND I'M THROUGH WITH YOUR ABUSE! I'M LEAVING. I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" A defiant pink silhouette rises into the dim, swaying ceiling light.

Sheets of rain pelt the window, and distant lightning pulses through drawn curtains. All else was dark.

A sharp sound severs the lingering silence.

A soft thud follows. A weak rasp of breath.

Rosy wings draw over a bruised cheek, eyes gleam without fear.

Heavy, booted footsteps approach the fallen figure. "Yer stayin' here, I already decided fer you. You best be thankin' me...I just made yer life a whole lot easier. But DON'T MAKE ME TELL YOU AGAIN."

. : P r o l o g u e : .

_"The pain in my face had disoriented me, his voice muffled through my stinging ear. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his hand flash towards the 8-gauge. I couldn't let myself lose to him again--not now, not _**ever**_ again. All within an instant, my pulse peaked, my wing swept around me for anything tangible, I ripped a loose board from the floor and followed through. _

_I barely heard his piercing scream over my own blood rushing through my ears. _

_Upon inspection, his bill was pocked with punctures from the rusty nails on the bottom of the board. His lip still quivered now and again with each weak breath. Even now, in my position of power, I could sense his--still greater; compared to his past this was but a scratch. _

_He was _**far**_ from dead._

_I stood up, despite the pain in my side from falling, and took advantage of my triumph by fishing through his chest at the other end of the room. At its nadir—below the loose, false one—I discovered his gruesome treasure, boxed and wrapped in blood-red velvet. I grabbed his old coat from its rusted nail on the wall and draped it over my shaking shoulders. His scent wafted around me, a lingering reminder. I tucked _**It **_away, safe against my violently thumping breast._

_Re-crossing the room, I stepped gingerly over his body. The storm door creaked proudly as I opened it, as if congratulating me. Mist from the rain glistened on my feathers as I looked over my shoulder one last time. The small diamond on my middle feather also caught light; I removed it apathetically and laid it in his open hand. _

_I certainly wouldn't let him forget that I trumped him when he woke. So, for good measure, I tied both his bootlaces together in a single bow. _

_After I was sure I had left my mark, I turned my back to him, to my house, to my town and all my life there as I walked through that doorway for the last time. I took the next train out, and I ended up here."_

_--_

Phyllis stared off into the distance, her pink feathers rhythmically tapping her glossy, red coffee mug. In a faint voice, she added solidly, "I never looked back."

"Wow. That's groovy." The white beagle noted after an eternal pause.

The indie artist Totakeke--better known as K.K. Slider--and the nighttime postal worker Phyllis were passing time at the train station. K.K. was seated on his usual throne, an orange box, and Phyllis was leaning on the pillar to the left of the steps, profile to him.

"You're following your own path, man. I like that."

Phylis just nodded. Her face remained stoic.

"So, why do you travel?" She asked him at last. Her voice was soft, yet curious.

K.K. shifted his weight, as if her question was a splinter in the lid of his box. "I just...like...never felt good staying in one place, man. The grind of daily life dragged me down. My music always carried me off to new places, seeking to gain and give inspir--."

**DONG**—**DONG**—**DONG**—The bell chimed 11 times.

K.K.'s voice was harshly overpowered by the town bell, which hung directly above him. Phyllis sighed.

Eleven o'clock. Time for work.

"Oh, how the bell tolls." The pink pelican sighed, standing upright and leaving the warmed stone

column.

"But for whom does the bell toll, man?" K.K. added, almost smartly.

"We'll never know." Phyllis' usual persona had returned. She turned her back to him, sighing and sipping her coffee. Its steam danced around her bill rather pleasantly.

_But, that night, it tolled for me._

As she headed off, just before he was out of earshot, Phyllis heard K.K. say, "See you next week."

And in her mind she counted the time until next Saturday.

She stopped briefly, only to wave (though still with her back turned) and say, "It's a date."


	2. Chapter 1

. : C h a p t e r - 1 : . A Cold Cup, A Cold Heart

**Tick, tock, tick, tock...** Phyllis feathered through an entertainment magazine as the hands on the clock passed 1:30 AM. She had missed Saturday Flight Live, Late Flight, AND her midnight soaps.

Typical.

Her Powderpuff Blue #42 eyelids began to droop, indicating that it was time for another swig of her midnight oil. The ebony coffee quivered in the cup as she brought it to her lips. Anticipation of the savory hot fuel danced on her bill.

In an instant, she set down her cup and closed her eyes tightly, spraying coffee everywhere. "Pppphtah! Cold." She mumbled, quite disgruntled. She was about to--with visible reluctance--reach for the old mop and bucket in the corner when the bell above the door sang its eerily cheerful song.

"Hello? Is anyone here, slacker?" A round eye and pink fur peeked through a crack in the door, illuminated by the light from inside.

Phyllis tried the Ignore technique, hoping that whoever it was would just go away and wait until Pelly's shift to send their petty letter. But that seemed to make it worse. The door swung open...

...and in walked Peanut. _What is SHE doing here, and at this hour?_ "Hello, this is the Town Post Office. What do you want??"

"I need to mail a letter, slacker." The pink squirrel scurried over to the counter, her fluffy pink tail bouncing cutely behind her. From out of Peanut's pockets came the most disgusting thing Phyllis had ever seen (Yes, even worse than Mayor Tortimer's feet!). It was a pink envelope with white lace trim, and glitter all over it! The flap was sealed with a heart shaped sticker, and the whole thing was consumed by a cloud of sweet perfume.

Phyllis nearly gagged. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and snatched the envelope quickly to avoid further contamination. "HEY! Watch it! That letter needs to get to him in PERFECT condition, or your boss will be hearing form me...slacker!" Peanut shouted in her shrill voice. For an instant, Phyllis thought she saw a scowl perched on the perfect powder pink face. The pelican tossed the letter in the bag apathetically.

Peanut quickly turned about, and stomped out the door. A sharp "...slacker..." could be heard just before the door clicked shut. Then, the sweet sound of silence.

But, Phyllis couldn't help but be curious about the letter...after a few suspense-building hours she carefully fished it back out of the bag and flipped it over. "To Snake" was written in swirly purple pen. Phyllis slipped her handy letter opener under the flap, and pried the envelope open with barely a sound. She unfolded the pink sakura-print paper, which unleashed another cloud of perfume. Through more gags and watery eyes, Phyllis read:

"My Dearest Snake:  
I have thought about you every day since your last visit.  
Your smile gives me butterflies! My friendship for you burns  
with the intensity of a thousand suns...or something.  
We should, like, totally, be best friends forever!  
Call me! Peanut"

Attached to the letter was a pickup receipt for a lovely phone. Also pink.

_Ha, this is just TOO rich!!_ Well, it just so happened that Peanut was on Phyllis' personal hit list, and that there was a stack of sakura-print paper on hand in the back room. After braving the dark and the dust, Phyllis emerged with the paper...and the new letter.

"Snake!  
Take off your shoes next time, bud,  
you tracked mud all over my carpet!  
And you don't--ever--wear brown and black TOGETHER.  
Stay away from my toilet, too! That took HOURS to get out!  
-Peanut, who hates you"

The pink pelican cackled at her sinister plan. _Him? Call YOU? Over my dead body!_ She took out the receipt and slipped the new letter into the envelope. Phyllis could use a new phone anyway.

Amidst her cackle, Phyllis barely heard Copper walking in.

"What's so funny, Miss Phyllis?" He always called her Miss Phyllis. "I see you're busy burning the midnight oil. Or, perhaps you've got a little crime on the mind tonight!? Ha, cop joke, don't you worry. I'm here following up on a cold case..." _Does this guy EVER shut up?_ "...on a theft in nearby Boondox..." _I mean, seriously, doesn't he have anything better to do?_ "...and an attempted murder..."

Phyllis froze. "Attempted murder?" She repeated softly, hesitating between words.

"ARE YOU WITHOLDING INFORMATION, MISS PHYLLIS!? SOMETHING YOU'D LIKE TO...GET OFF YOUR CHEST??" Copper put his muzzle right in front of Phyllis' bill, leaning in close.

Unphased by shouting, Phyllis put her wings on her hips and leaned in, shouting back, "ARE YOU GOING TO MAIL SOMETHING? OR JUST STAND THERE AND GIVE ME ANOTHER SHOWER?"

It was Copper's turn to freeze.

An added gesture got the point across quite clearly. "If you don't have anything to mail, there's the--"

"Oh, look at the time! I must be going. Stay on the right side of the law, Miss Phyllis. I've got my eye on you." Copper calmly stated, condoling her impudence.

_And I've got my eye on this magazine. Now, scram!_

Copper saluted her, then marched out of the door, his claws clicking on the wood floor. Just then, Phyllis heard a sweet, kind voice outside, humming a cheery tune. 5 AM already?

Pelly walked in, hanging up her coat and fixing her bow in front of the small mirror by the door. Her white feathers were, as usual, perfect and bright white. Her makeup was perfect, her smile pleasant. Her coffee warm. Her engagement ring gleamed vividly in the first ray of sunlight. "Why, good morning, dear Phyllis! Busy night?"

Phyllis only grunted.

"You look like you could use a good night's rest," Pelly's angelic voice echoed in the high rafters of the lobby. "While I was heading to work today, I ran into Copper. Strange, he doesn't usually leave the Police Station, but he said he was on an important assignment, investigating an attemped murd--"

"DO I LOOK LIKE I WANT TO HEAR YOU SQUAWKING IN THE MORNING!?" Phyllis interrupted. "Leave me alone." The pink pelican briskly turned her back to her sister, gathering her things.

"Alright, Phyllis. Sleep well." Pelly replied, still with radiant, refined grace.

Phyllis let out a long sigh. It had been almost five years since she had left Boondox, left her old life. She shrugged it off, dropping the sabotaged letter into the mailbag with a fresh, sly grin. She idly waved a wing at Pelly as she closed the door.

_Revenge is sweet._


	3. Chapter 2

. : C h a p t e r - 2 : . Prelude

"_Hey Phyllis, it's me, Pel. Listen, I need you to come in early tonight; Pete just asked me to dinner down at the Roost! I don't even know what I'm going to wear and--ANYWAY, I need you at the post office by 6:30. Love ya, bye_" The small, heart-shaped light on the lovely phone ceased blinking, and the speaker clicked as it shut off.

Phyllis rubbed her face with her wings. She hadn't slept well last night. It was still early, about 5 PM, but Phyllis got dressed, made a quick cup of coffee, and left her small bungalow to catch the ferry to town.

The rain beat down hard on the small island, and the choppy waters made for a rough ride. Kapp'n's voice on the intercom blared across the deck from time to time, assuring the passengers of his small, white ferry that they would be all right. Phyllis held onto the rail, sipping her coffee and staring out from beneath her navy poncho at the hazy water.

A small figure, also covered by a poncho, approached her, slipping on a puddle lying about on the deck. Phyllis caught the animal's small paw with pristine, though long-unused reflexes. "Careful."

"Um...thanks." The animal peered out from under her poncho, but her face was hidden. She peered for what seemed an awfully long time, then headed to the other side of the deck, carefully.

From time to time the small cloaked animal gazed Phyllis' way, averting her eyes nervously each time Phyllis glared at her. The small figure quickly slipped away as the ferry docked, heading opposite Phyllis down the beach.

Phyllis passed the wishing well on her way to the Post office, tossing in a single, shining bell...as she had every day before on her way to work. She never wished for anything in particular, and if asked why she threw the coins in the well, Phyllis was never sure how she'd reply. But today, she paused mid-step as she saw a figure rummaging through the dump.

_In this weather!? She's got to be crazy...or desperate._ Phyllis paused under the shelter of the Well Tree's large, benevolent branches, peering through the rain. She made out the figure to be Carrie the kangaroo (and her son Carl, nestled in her goldenrod-furred pouch below a Big Dot shirt), who was putting the second-hand furniture quickly in her pockets, then running to Nook's next door, then returning to the dump again. Carl wailed with chill, Carrie quickly grabbed a peach from a nearby tree, peeling back a bit of its moist, furry skin, and handed it to him. He sucked on the sweet fruit silently. Phyllis sipped her warm coffee, shaking her head after Carrie stuffed her pockets a second time and ran off. She left the shelter of the tree, and once again headed for the post office.

The cheery bell rang as she opened the damp door. As soon as Pelly saw her, the white bird--who had already gotten her things ready--scurried toward the open door with her pink poncho half on. "You're my hero! Sorry about calling you in, I'll repay you, I promise!" She said hastily, running through the door and out into the rain. As if on cue, the sky began to clear up and the rain stopped.

_Of course, the sun always shines on you, Pelly..._

Phyllis hung her things up to dry, taking her place behind the desk. Tuesday evenings were always painfully slow, so Phyllis had time to catch up on her reading. Todays tabloid featured Gracie and her boyfriend (for the week)...WENDELL!? _How could she even stand to be NEAR him??_ Phyllis quickly flipped over the cover, trying to find some other gossip...but not before grabbing her pen and putting a thick red 'X' over Wendell's cobalt face.

The door wailed as it opened, letting in a cool, moist breeze. Camofrog stepped in, his green, splotched skin glistening from the mist outside. "Hi there, Phyllis." He said in his raspy voice.

"This is the town Post Office. What do you want?" The pink pelican replied, unphased.

"I'm here to make a mortgage payment, miss." Camofrog approached the counter, pulling from his pocket a small burlap bag of bells.

Phyllis silently took the bag and fetched the proper forms from under the counter. Grabbing a pen, she made proper notes of the transaction.

"So, you're pretty tough, eh Phyllis? You must have spent some time in the Crossing Guard...ten-hut! Spent three years there myself, the world out there sure is a cruel place." Camofrog tried to start conversation.

"It is." Phyllis replied, still filling out the form. "Spent 10 in the CG, I was lucky and got sent home as soon as things cleared up. Settled down, left again, and I've been here since." She condensed her story to only a single meager, modest statement. But, it was still a connection, whether she would admit it or not.

"10!? You're one tough cookie, ten hut!"

Phyllis almost blushed. Almost. "Yeah, I guess." _When's this guy going to leave me alone!?_ "Remember, comrade, your next payment is due in two weeks."

"Heh, I'll make it late at night, too" Camofrog laughed...at himself.

Phyllis only sighed. Her quota of nice for the day had run out the moment she woke up.

"Erm, I don't know if you could check, but have any packages come for me recently?"

"No...and no." The pink pelican replied.

"Well...alrighty, then, I'll see you later! About face! Ten-hut!!" Camofrog said, saluting her, turning around, and marching out the door.

Phyllis rested her drooping head in her wingtips as she rested one elbow on the counter. But, just as her eyes began to close, the bell above the door rang again.

In hopped a nervous Carrie, with her son Carl half asleep in her pouch.

"This...is the town Post Office. What--"

"Have any letters come in for me today, Phyllis?" Carrie got right to the point. She was shivering, so her words came out slightly slurred. She dabbed Carl's running nose with a soft, sky blue handkerchief.

Phyllis walked over to the letter sorter. Peeking in Carrie's box, she shook her head disappointedly. "Nothing."

"Are you sure? Is there a chance anything could come in late?"

"No. Pete's always on time, and no letter is carried later than 6 PM..." A pause. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry...It's all right, little one." Carrie replied solemnly, patting her sleeping son on the head. "It's just...he hasn't sent the check for the third month in a row, and it's getting tight for Carl and me." The kangaroo blurted out, wrapping the handkerchief around her paws and gazing at her feet.

"Talk to Copper, he might be able to do something about it." _Like I care!_ Phyllis reminded herself.

"It's a moot point, He'll be reminded by His own parole officer. Phyllis, take my advice and don't EVER marry a deadbeat like Him." Carrie heeded sincerely, her eyes watering as she stroked her son's fluffy mane again.

Phyllis only chuckled halfheartedly. "It's too late for that."

"Well, I'd better be going. Good night." Carrie said, managing a half-smile.

"Take care." Phyllis called to the kangaroo as she hopped out the door and into the hazy evening light.

--

Minutes turned into idle hours, with only a few things to straighten up from Pelly's shift. At 3 AM, Phyllis' body simply gave in, her head hit the desk and she dozed off.

She woke only a half-hour later as a shiver stole along her spine. She bolted up, turning around and darting about the small building with her eyes.

"_I have come for youuuuu..._" A deep, gale-like voice echoed.

"Who? Who are you? Stop playing tricks already!" Phyllis shouted, seemingly at no one.

"_I have finally come for youuu...Phyllisssss..._" The voice replied.

"No, no! It can't be--I made sure you'd never return!" She shouted desperately, grasping her letter opener tightly within her pink feathers, as if it were the material form of her very life. "DON'T YOU EVER, EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!"

"_Noooo...I have come for youuu...bloo-hoo, bloo-hoo, BOOOOO!_"

"DIE!!" Phyllis screamed like a banshee, driving the knife through the mist that had formed in front of her.

Right in front of Phyllis' quivering beak, Wisp materialized, laughing uncontrollably. He pulled the knife from his hovering form with a _wissshhh_ and handed it back to her. "HAHAHAHA, BOO! That was PRICELESS! So much for being the helpful ghost...that was just awesome! Phyllis, I have seen the light!" He spun about, as if dancing.

"H-HEY!! You can't DO that! You'll scare someone to DEATH!" Phyllis gasped, catching her own breath and setting the knife down.

Wisp shrunk in size. "Um...Phyllis, I didn't mean to..."

"OH, YOU MEANT TO SOMETHING, THAT'S FOR SURE. YOU CAN'T PULL ONE OVER ME! GET OUT!" She shouted, gesturing to the door.

"Phyllis...I'm--I'm sorry..."

"SORRY'S NOT GOING TO BUTTER THE BREAD THIS TIME! LEAVE, NOW, OR I'M PHONING KATRINA!"

Wisp whimpered before slowly backing away and phasing through the wall.

Phyllis rubbed her wingtips all through her short crown of feathers. _I can't keep getting all worked up like this._ She told herself, sighing.

_When The Time comes, I might not have enough energy to fight back!_

_The subordinate approached the seated figure. The room was dark, but she had navigated the room a thousand times over. She knew where to find him._

_"How often have ya seen 'er there?" His voice was still powerful, even though the chair was turned away form her._

_"Every day, sir." She replied, resting one hand on his small desk and leaning forward._

_The chair squeaked as it swiveled around. He was calm as ever, with his arms folded and a plain white--unsealed-- envelope in one hand. A cigar hung form his mouth, filling the room with its sweet smoke. The small, burning ash at its end lit one side of his face: pock marks were scattered across his cheek, long ago scabbed over with dark skin._

_"What's that?" She asked him, expecting to see his vintage gold revolver. It's presence envigorated her, bringing back nostalgia form her first mission, when she last wielded it._

_"A letter. I'm gonna take my time with this'un." He dropped a small gold band into the envelope; its small gem sparkled flawlessly in the ashen light. "Deliver this to her." She placed a delicate paw outward, into which he placed the sealed envelope. He then stroked her cheek softly, his hand shaking __form old wounds and the unfamiliar fragility with which he exercised this gesture. "Go." The chair turned back around. She had been dismissed._


	4. Chapter 3

. : C h a p t e r - 3 : . Countdown

"Slacker, gimmie some candy, or else I'll play nasty tricks on you!"

"Booo...I need candy, ten-hut!"

"Little one, you'd better fork over the goods, or else!"

_I HATE Halloween._

The silly pumpkin-masked villagers had been stopping in one by one the entire night. They tracked mud all over the floor and littered it with candy wrappers after they had their fill of tasty treats. A dish of over 100 morsels would be empty by morning. She knew they were coming in twice--even three times!--but Phyllis didn't feel like knocking ten rolls of toilet tissue off of the Post Office again this year.

After the hoopla had settled down, one peculiar patron entered. It wore the pumpkin-mask and indigo robes, as everyone else did, but didn't threaten her or make strange noises. It wandered about the post office idly, looking the place up and down. Now and again the mysterious villager eyed-up the candy dish, but it remained silent.

"Jack, are you going to ask for a piece or just flood your mask with drool like last time?" Phyllis asked at last.

"Um..." The animal's head quickly turned to Phyllis. As it approached the counter, it slipped on a small deposit of muddy water on the floor, letting out a baffled mew as it caught its balance. "Oh!"

_That's not Jack, but...who is she?_ Phyllis thought, anxiety seeding deep within her.

The small, pumpkin-masked stranger approached the counter, leaning in close to Phyllis and studying her face from behind the safety of the orange mask. A familiar feeling crept up the pelican's spine, and what she could see in the holes of the mask was, also. Too familiar. "This is the town Post Office. What do you want?"

The stranger pulled from beneath her robe a white envelope, sliding it across the counter.

"There's no addressee on this envelope. I can't mail it." Phyllis raised her voice. Was this girl some kind of idiot?

"Then don't." The Idiot's soft voice didn't equate such cynicism; she turned away nervously and her mask shifted softly on her petite shoulders. She gingerly took two pieces of candy from the dish, placing one in her pocket. As she walked out, she popped the other sweet into her mouth, tossing the wrapper into the proper waste receptacle.

For a time, Phyllis stared out into space. _Who was she? I __know__ I've met her before..._

She turned the envelope over and over in her hands nonchalantly, as if in a trance. It fell from her wings, flipping once in midair and ending seal-side-up on the counter. She slowly tilted her head downward to look at it. Scooping it up cautiously, she pulled out her letter opener from under the counter. The flap sprang out of its fold tautly, cutting through her feathered finger and nicking the skin. The wisps of pink feather floated about ethereally. Phyllis held up the injured extremity, and a single crimson drop dove onto the crisp white envelope. With her other wing, she turned the envelope upside-down and shook the slip of long, yellowed memo paper out.

This was thoughtfully scrawled on the front:

_It's not over, Phyllis:  
You upset the flow and stole the  
balance. I __WILL__ get it back.  
If you thought it was bad before,  
you'll be __un__pleasantly surprised.  
That's a __promise._

And this on the back, in large print:

_22_

Just as Phyllis finished reading the note, a small object rolled down the tilted inside of the envelope and came to a rest on the counter after rolling lopsidedly for a few seconds. Her ring.

She seized the paper form its resting place, reading it over and over again. She picked up the ring, and slid it onto her right ring finger with a smirk. "I suppose its time to pay the piper..." Phyllis' insides were violently shaking with fear, but she masked it with a resolved acceptance of her fate. After all, she had been waiting a long time for this. The 22, though, still rattled her brain. Yes, they had been married for 22 years, but she would never forget that.

It hit her like a bushel of bricks. Phyllis had 22 days left before the reunion. 22 days to live.

One agonizing day of wait for each agonizing year of their matrimony. She circled the day on the wall calendar. Oh, the irony; it was their anniversary and her 40th birthday. And Phyllis wasn't about to give HIM a gift. Just as she placed her marker back in its cup, the bell above the door sang its salutation to...

Copper. The officer strode stiffly in, eyes locked on Phyllis. "What's that, Miss Phyllis? Fan mail?"  
_There he goes with that Miss Phyllis thing again. What does he want?_

"It's garbage." Phyllis curtly replied, tossing the paper into the garbage can across the room.

"Well played."

"I was varsity in high school."

"Really? I was also quite the athlete in my younger days--but I digress. There is something suspicious about you, Phyllis. I can smell it." Copper didn't beat around the bush about crime. Ever.

"You might want to get that checked. Nothing ever happens around here." The pelican snapped, heading into the back room to grab her inventory clipboard. Copper crept over to the garbage can, poking the wad until it unfurled its secrets. The canine quickly jotted a few notes down on his notepad, making sure to note the exotic scent of the paper. He rubbed his paw on the paper and then on his.

When Phyllis returned, she spotted the snooping dog and was quite enraged. "Get out of there!"

"Well, I don't have anything more to see here. I'll be off; stay out of trouble Miss Phyllis!" The police dog strode out with his usual airs still intact.

Phyllis waddled over to the can, pulling out the paper and stuffing it back into the envelope. She tore the envelope (and the letter) into a million little pieces and cupped her wing around them. Pelly would be in any minute, so she swept up the dried mud with one hand on her broom. As the angelic white figure strode in, she brushed past and was out the door without a word.

Phyllis stopped at the Wishing Well on her way to the docks. In the plaza, she heard a strange echo:

_**Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine...**_

The pelican peered into the dusky distance and saw Tortimer, staggering and singing into the neck of a bottle he held in his claws.

_**Now she's lost and gone forever, oh my darling Clementine...**_

"Tortimer?! Tortimer!" Phyllis called to him. The senile turtle stopped dead, looking at her blankly.

She rushed to him, pushing him by his shell toward the post office. "I think you need to abandon the bottle for a while and relax." She suggested. _If anyone in town saw this, there could be trouble!_ Phyllis thought as she coaxed Tortimer back toward the Post Office. He was now babbling senselessly, his arms flailing. She kicked the door open, shouted "Pelly!", and shoved him in. Pelly would have to deal with this; Phyllis was, after all, off the clock.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let the twilight-infused wind blow around her. In solemn silence she walked back to the well, kneeling before its stone rim and jovial statue. Taking the paper bits she had cupped so tightly in her wing, she laid them in the cool, clear water, watching them slowly sink to the cobblestone bottom. Though it felt concluding to dispose of the materialized threat, Phyllis knew this was far from over.

_22 days __far__ from over._


	5. Chapter 4

. : C h a p t e r - 4 : . Small Talk

_Why am I--what the heck is this!?_ Thick, tight rope grated against Phyllis' feathers.

A shadowed figure approached her, clutching what appeared to be a gold revolver. The only sources of light were the glow at the end of his cigar and the dim light from a jagged hole in the blackness over Phyllis, where a few stars could be seen.

"Speechless, eh? You really missed meh that much?" The voice boomed from the silhouette. "Well, now yer not going anywhere..."

". . ." Frantic wiggling. _Oh no! I'm gagged, too! What am I going to do!?_ She could feel her heart thumping against her ribs as he knelt over her. He reached into his pocket, slowly, and pulled from it a single cartridge. He examined it, and put its tip against her skin, sliding it down the side of her face and neck, stopping over her heart. Pulling the rope slightly apart, he marked the center of her shirt with an 'x' by tracing the cartridge over it. Carved on the cartridge: 21.

_Cross my heart, hope to die..._ The rhyme sang oddly in Phyllis' mind.

"Always will I perform my headship over you...from this day forward..." He put the bullet to his lips and kissed it,"...for better, for worse..." The metallic sound of the cartridge sliding into the barrel echoed, "...for richer, for poorer..." He swiftly pulled back the hammer and the cartridge was loaded into the barrel; a single tear fell down Phyllis' cheek simultaneously,"...in sickness and in health..." The gun was placed on Phyllis' chest, right above her heart, she could feel its chill!

He leaned in close. "Until death do us part"  
..._Until death do us part._

**Bang!**

Silence.

--

She frantically shook the dream from her mind, sighing heavily.

"Hey there, Phyllis!...heh heh hoorf...Happy Mayor's Day's Eve!" Tortimer rasped to Phyllis as she approached the Wishing Well. Behind the mayor was a wheelbarrow, full of gifts. "Loot at these treasures! It's not even Mayor's Day yet...heh heh horf..."

Phyllis grumbled, walking stiffly past the well. She didn't throw the coin in, as she always did: what was left to wish for?

"Erm...hooorf..." Tortimer began,"..didn't YOU bring me anything, Phyllis?"

She tossed him a paper ball over her shoulder. 'IOU' was written on it. The old turtle sighed sadly.

"Well...I have something for you."

Phyllis stopped walking. Tortimer approached her, holding a paper bag in one hand with a Tanuki leaf on it. As she turned to face him, he held the bag out to her, and hesitantly, she accepted it.

"Thanks."

"You need it more than I do. Take care, heh heh hoorf..." And with that, he nodded and walked back to his post.

As Phyllis opened the door to the Post Office, the jingle of Pelly's keys could be heard. The white pelican yawned, and even in the most mundane way she was more perfect than Phyllis would ever be. "Good night, dear Phyllis." She sang by merely talking. _Oh, dear Pelly--my perfect little ray of sunshine--but I cannot go gentle into that goodnight._

"G'night, Pelly." The two brushed past each other: one leaving, one arriving. Always opposite.

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light...get home, little Pelly, before darkness catches you!_

Phyllis dropped her things behind the counter on the floor, setting her mug on the empty counter next to the window. Something had been left on the windowsill by Pelly, the note attached read:

_Dearest Phyllis,  
This came in today, but I  
thought you might want  
to have a look at it before  
I sent it out.  
Pelly_

Underneath the Sky paper was a camouflage-print box with a plain gray label on it.  
**16920-CAMOFROG-ANIMAL VILLAGE**

It was an enlistment package for Camofrog. He was going back to the Crossing guard. Phyllis sighed, gingerly placing the parcel in Camofrog's box. She patted the box twice before turning back to her counter and sipping her coffee which was, of course, cold. There were other letters still to be sorted, _Troublesome holiday mail, and Tortimer doesn't even pay me extra for this!_, so Phyllis slid the letters into their respective boxed at what could not be called a breakneck pace, to put it lightly.

As Phyllis finished up her demeaning task, Tortimer opened the door and backed in with his wheelbarrow piled high with gifts. Trinkets tumbled down the pile as he eased the load through the door to the back room. He said nothing, only whistling as he pushed up the loose tile on the ceiling and a small ladder obediently tumbled down. He pushed his cane up through the hole, then slowly climbed up, hitting a light switch after closing the ladder behind the tile again. _It must be so nice living that close to work, mayor Tortimer..._ Phyllis thought as she could hear him settling into bed in his loft.

Just as things got peaceful, shouts broke the silence. Phyllis' curiosity (or nosiness?) got the better of her and she craned her short pelican neck to see out the window.

"B-b-but Snake, we're DESTINED to be best friends! IT'S IN THE STARS!!" A shrill voice cried.

"Peanut, you know you don't like me! You're only PRETENDING to like me to make HIM jealous!" A deeper, but not quite masculine voice retorted.

"THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH...WITH HIM!" She grunted with frustration. "I want to be YOUR best friend now, 110!"

"My heart has been taken by another woman...one so devious, so independent, so...MAUVE."

"...what!? How could you?"

"Peanut, I am sorry, but I cannot stop the blooming flower of friendship!" The male voice declared as it faded into the distance with fleeting footsteps.

Another high-pitched grumble, and heavy, slow footsteps carried it away.

Phyllis cackled uncontrollably, laying her head on the counter and banging her fists onto it. She did it! She totally stuck it to that pesky Peanut!But, she couldn't help wonder who this mauve chick was...man, this was better than soaps! Phyllis was pulling the strings, and all the damage was REAL! Brilliant, simply brilliant!

By the time the sun was creeping among the hills, Phyllis had been asleep for a few hours. No residents had visited all night, so she figured it would be okay to catch up on her 'beauty rest': some would say she needed a lot more of it.

The eerie, cheery door bell woke her as Pelly, traced in the fiery sunrise, floated into the Post Office.

"Good morning, dear Phyllis." Pelly said softly.

Phyllis only grumbled.

Pelly smiled at her, holding out an extra cup of coffee. "This one is warm." Pelly declared, tilting her head slightly. Phyllis snatched the cup from her hands, taking a big gulp of the liquid gold. The pink pelican picked up her things, grabbing the Tanuki bag last.

"Happy Mayor's Day, Pel." She announced energetically (in comparison to her grumble a few moments ago).

"Awww, Phyllis, this is lovely!" Pelly pulled the hand-crafted Well Model form the bag and set it on the counter. "Hmm, it needs something more. Pete gave me this, but I don't think he'll mind if I use it. After all, that is why he gave it to me!" Pelly pulled on her green silk scarf, which slipped delicately from her neck and caught a lovely sheen in full light. She laid it on the counter, putting the small sculpture on top of the rippling green cloth.

"It looks...nice..." Phyllis visibly struggled with the compliment.

"Thank you so much, Phyllis." Pelly walked over and hugged her big sister tightly. Her angelic voice was muffled as she laid her head on Phyllis' shoulder.

Phyllis patted her softly. "Yeah, yeah." She left the embrace, slowly. "Well, I'm leaving. See you."

Pelly waved as Phyllis walked out, silent until the door clicked shut. "See you, dear Phyllis. Bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray."


	6. Chapter 5

. : C h a p t e r - 5 – Unrequited : .

"...from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part..." _If only I had known what I was getting into that summer day..._

Phyllis had locked up the Post Office and was headed to Carrie's house, a long white envelope rested in her wing. The night air was slightly cool, a light breeze rustled in the trees. As she passed the Wishing Well, she tossed in a single shining bell.

Things had not been going Phyllis' way lately. Sleep had evaded her, mocked her as Pelly walked in every morning, shining in the sunlight that always cloaked her. Phyllis began to rely addictively on her old K.K. cassettes to fall asleep after work; everything had seemed more arduous lately. She had dreamed, for the second time, that her husband had tied her up, cocking a bullet with the countdown to her doom into his gold revolver, and fired it into her chest. 20. She woke up feeling the burning projectile pulsing within her; or perhaps it was just the trembling of her heart. She never could tell, but--

"OH, HOO I SAY! BACK AND AWAY, YOU FOUL-FACED DENIZEN! HOO, HOO!!"

Phyllis jerked her head to her left, the towering edifice that was the Farway Museum was in upset, with booms and crashes echoing within in. She stuffed the letter into her vest pocket and ran into the museum.

Blathers had fluttered to the top of the grandfather clock in the foyer, and was feebly swinging a small golden net at a large beetle hovering nearby. It's massive body was cloaked in black armor that shone in the overhead lights, and its wings beat loudly against its opened shell. The tawny owl's eyes were wider than usual as he peeked out form under his wingtips. Phyllis stepped around the broken glass cage on the tile floor and approached the base of the clock.

"What are you doing Blathers!?" Phyllis squawked up to him.

"Hoo my...it would seem that this specimen has escaped form its quarantine. I was carrying to the exhibit when I caught a glimpse of his clustered, beady eyes staring out at me, and I just couldn't take it...oh Phyllis, do help me, please!" Blathers cooed, panicked. iGeez, even when he's scared he sill prattles on!/i

"Well, what do you suggest I do, you useless pile of fuss and feathers?"

"Take this, and capture the fiend, hoo hoo!"

The net was tossed down to Phyllis, and she gripped its short handle with both wings as she crept up behind the behemoth beetle, who had landed on the base of the clock. Blathers let out an eerie wail as it crawled up toward him, smacking the top of the clock with his wings as he ducked for cover. This tremor caused the beetle to leave its perch, flying backwards toward Phyllis.

"Oh, nasty, nasty!, get away, you foul thing!" She howled, and instinct took the reins. The net fell from her wings as she held them out to her sides, and her foot rose from the floor...

Within an instant, the large beetle was underneath her orange heel; its guts oozed out and dripped down the wood of the clock.

Blathers, no longer hearing the buzz of the beetle's wings, glided down from his perch. "Phyllis! Hoo, you really have done it! The vermin under your heel was a Giant Beetle, the rarest of them all. It was worth 10,000 bells, but was generously donated for display in our collection! Hoo my, what am I to do!?"

"Oh, stop that! I got rid of it, didn't I? Geez, I'm outta here..." Phyllis turned her beak up to the curator, quickly making her exit as Blathers stood slack-beaked, taking in the mess before him.

--

The quiet night air once again enveloped Phyllis as she continued on her journey. She climbed the two steps to Carrie's door; the wind had blown sand across their planks. She rapped her wing on the door twice, and waited for the door to open. Down the beach, she caught a glimpse of Snake's house, where lights that had been switched off just a moment ago flickered on, and a silhouette stood at the window. Phyllis could feel a shiver in her spine, as if the shape was watching her.

Just then, the door clicked open, and there stood Carrie, pouch empty and mane astrew. "Oh, Phyllis! What a surprise. What—Carl, iplease/i put down mommy's expensive quill pen...oh, never mind—What brings you here?"

Phyllis pulls the envelope out of her pocket, smoothing out a soft crease that had formed after she shoved it into her vest. "This is for you."

"Phyllis, I didn't know you delivered mail!" Carrie exclaimed, surprised.

"I don't."

"Well, please come in and let me at least make you some coffee for coming all this way."

"I have to get bac--" But Carrie had already gone into her kitchen before Phyllis could finish rejecting her invitation. The pelican sighed and stepped inside, seating herself—at Carrie's request—at the small pine table across from Carl. The short jack's head barely came past the surface of the table, but he was doodling furiously regardless. His crayons were scattered about, as if a coloring bomb had gone off on the table; some lay in a messy pile and a few strayed away from the site of impact. Bits of colorful wrapping dotted the pile as Carl shredded the paper back to make the tips peek out more. He looked up when Phyllis say in the chair and began tapping her wingtips on the table. Excitedly pushing his current work aside, he grabbed a fresh piece of white paper form his stack on the floor and started a new picture with a oddly fat pink crayon.

"So, Phyllis, what's it like working the graveyard shift?" Carrie asked politely as she carried in a homely tray bearing a chipped tea set filled with steaming black coffee.

"Tiring." Phyllis said, eagerly grabbing the cup as soon as it was set before her. Cupping the weathered mug, she welcomed the pure black energy as it slid down her throat.

"I'm so glad you came tonight." Carrie said after a quiet moment. Phyllis set down her cup and folded her wings politely on the table. "I don't know what I would have done with Carl over here...little one..." She trailed off, ruffling his small, frizzy mane. "My husband left right after I moved here, and things have been tough. I had always thought that I could get along fine on my own as long as there was still fruit growing on the trees, but once Carl came I realized how silly I had been."

Phyllis looked down at the little burden, and she noticed how he had been staring at her--no, through her!--as he doodled. It was as if he could see something secret there, and he was intent on uncovering it...he exchanged his pink crayon for a yellow one.

"The coffee is good." Phyllis said, smiling uncharacteristically. "Husbands can be such trouble."

"I agree, Phyllis!" Carrie chuckled nervously, sipping her coffee nervously. Her hands shook, and her eyes were exhausted. But, she was so friendly despite all that... _Geez, what is Miss Perky's deal?_ "Hey, little one. What are you drawing?"

Carl held his drawing up in front of his face. Phyllis was in the center, reproduced in pink swirls, her jagged wings straight out to the left and right. At the end of her right wing, however, was something quite peculiar. A yellow scribble, angled like a boomerang, was at her fingertips. A black, thick smile was in the center of her eyeless face, stretching out past her pink cheeks. Phyllis placed her hand over her mouth. _How could it be, how does he know...?_ "Oh, Carl, what a nice present you made for Phyllis!" Carrie filled the silence with her sweet quivering voice.

"It's for you..." Carl mumbled quietly, putting the paper on top of Phyllis wing that was still rested on the pine. She slowly folded it up and placed it in the inner pocket of her vest. Carl's large, round eyes watched Phyllis intensely.

"Oh! Phyllis, you probably have to head back now." She took the empty cups form the table and set them back on the tray. "It was good to have you!"

"...thanks for the coffee." Phyllis replied, rising from her chair and walking over to the small door. Carrie followed her, opening the door for the pelican politely and smiling. Carl stood at her side. "Bye, Phyllis." He mumbled.

She waved idly without looking back at them, smoothing her vest and stepping out into the night.

--

The waves lapped on the shore as Phyllis walked along the beach on her way back to the post office. Every few steps she could hear something rattling in the trees nearby, but she ignored it. Suddenly, an animal leaped out from the shadows, landing right in front of Phyllis. It was Snake!

"Phyllis, my sweet Phyllis! How I have watched you all this time, pondering how I might one day confront you!" Such awkward, intelligent speech...for Snake. Phyllis knew her night could only get more bizarre. The hooded rabbit held out a pink cosmos, its bulb still attached, that matched Phyllis' feathers. Tied to its stem with a piece of twine was a small framed picture of Snake in his Sunday best. "I raised this flower in your likeness, hoping that its pink blossom would quell my desired for your friendship. But, as soon as its bud opened, I know that I could not be satisfied unless...unless we were best friends! Please, Phyllis, accept this humble symbol of my friendship to you!" Snake quivered with emotion on his bended knees.

"What are you, crazy!? I don't need any best friends, and I definitely don't need YOU!" Phyllis screamed. Snake was quite hurt, and the picture fell from its rope and silently fell onto the sand. After a pause, Phyllis took the flower from the stunned rabbit's paw and stormed off.

--

The rest of Phyllis' walk was taken in a sleep-like daze...until she approached the police station.

"Hey, dude, I didn't know, honest!"

"Don't try to fool me; I can smell the truth all over you!"

"Come on, cut a dog a break, man!"

"No sir! Curfew is curfew; even guests are expected to obey my laws...you mutt! Now, march!"

Phyllis, crouching behind a tall apple tree, watched Copper herd K.K. Slider into the police station, holding the musicians paws behind his bare white back. Phyllis had to cover her beak to stop form calling out K.K.'s name. As soon as the two were gone, the pelican emerged and slowly walked past the station, keeping to the shadows. She froze when Booker trotted out, picking up a polished guitar form the ground; it must have slid form K.K.'s back during the confrontation.

"Good evening, Phyllis..." Booker said slowly, tipping his hat to the postal worker.

"Um...hello, Booker." Phyllis looked over to him, then hurried back to the post office.

--

Phyllis unlocked the door with a _click_, and pushed it open. Its creak echoed through the lobby...

...where Peanut was waiting.

"Phyllis!! I saw you, stealing Snake from ime/i! Why would you do such a thing!?" Peanut shrieked accusingly.

"What do you mean, stealing Snake? And how did you even get in here!?" Phyllis replied, wings on her hips.

"I have my ways, Phyllis. Why would you even WANT Snake? You're so...so...OLD!!"

"OLD? O-L-D!? You'd better LEAVE before I call the police and have you TAKEN out of here!"

"HMPH! You'll see who wins his friendship. YOU'LL SEEEEE!" The pink squirrel stomped out the open door, slamming it on her way out.

Phyllis sighed, walking behind the counter and putting the cosmos in a vase filled with water from one of the bottles stowed away under the counter in case of an emergency; the town's supply of water when the typhoons flooded the river. She put her elbows on the counter, resting her head in her wingtips.

It seemed that the worst was over, for now...


	7. Chapter 6

. : C h a p t e r - 6 – Calm Before the Storm : .

"Now, Totakeke, you just sit here and think about your crime while I prepare the paperwork." Copper let go of the musician's white chin with a slight, taunting push. "Booker, keep _both_ eyes om 'im."

Booker, who had been standing in the corner and wringing his paws, turned to face his superior. "Um, yes Copper, I'll keep watch, I mean, I'll try my best...I think..."

Copper marched off and Booker grabbed a steel folding chair, moving closer to the fugitive. The two canines sat together in silence, Booker occasionally scratching his nose with a round paw and sneezing; the loose skin draped around his maw flapped comically with each gesture. A light at the back of the station over the lost-and-found table flickered and the mechanical components of the building hummed and clicked within the thin, off-white walls.

Booker finally broke the silence by loudly clearing his throat. "Um...would you...like something to drink? Because you might...be thirsty...waiting for Copper to come back..."

K.K.'s dark eyes met the officer's, who in turn jumped slightly. "Oh, sure. Water's fine." He shifted his paws and the chain between his cuffs jingled mockingly.

"Um...all right...I'll get you some..." Booker mumbled, slowly rising from his seat (which creaked at the relief of his weight) and heading through a narrow doorway near the locked, iron door Copper had recently entered.

Scanning the station carefully, the musician tried to wiggle free from the handcuffs, but to no avail. He realized that he was cuffed to the back of his chair as well...but also that the chains on his handcuffs were iquite/i strong. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and silently hoisted the chair onto his back grinning with pleasure at his own wit. His lucky streak would be broken when he tried to open the station's front door, only to realize that it was locked. Of course. But he knew that this newfound freedom should not be wasted.

With what seemed to be a good amount of time on his hands—confused grunts that came from the dark corridor where Booker was fumbling with an uncooperative sink indicated such—K.K. decided to give himself a tour of the Animal Village Police Station. Kicking aside the wheel-mounted chair behind the front desk, he observed the nondescript forms detailing various villagers' personal information. Glossy photographs were paper-clipped to each packet. _Geez, this dude is a little obsessive...shouldn't these be locked up? Oh well, his loss..._ The fugitive couldn't help but chuckle at the comments about each villager furiously scribbled at the bottom of the forms..."WORKS OUT MUCH TOO OFTEN"..."QUITE THE BUSYBODY"..."LIKES LONG WALKS ON THE BEACH AND RUNNING THROUGH FIELDS OF WILDFLOWERS" (Of course, that one was Coppers, but what was a personal newspaper advertisement doing in here?)..."PETTY CLOTHING THIEF"...the list went on. But the small sheet of gold memo paper folded in thirds caught K.K.'s attention.

Pushing his black nose under the top fold, the musician carefully pried open the paper, smoothing the creases with his ivory muzzle. Between olive lines were furiously-scribbled notes regarding a cold case that had been 'reopened due to surfacing evidence':

**BNDX CN: 10570-01.**

**902m/594/273/27/487**

**X-UL (GOA)**

**...CODE 100**

_Ha! The Man thinks his little code can hamper me..._ K.K. Thought to himself, deciphering the police codes.

**Boondox Case Number 10570-01. Medical aid needed at the scene of a malicious theft...assault on person during the attempted crime—classified as Grand Theft. Involved female was the alleged suspect, gone on arrival...In position to intercept the suspect.**

"Phyllis!" The beagle exclaimed to himself. He caught another scent mixed on the paper...musk.

Just then, Booker returned from the closet holding a small glass of water, fogging with condensated vapor. K.K. jumped back, landing his char near the place it had sat before. Seemingly unphased, the droopy-eyed deputy held out the glass of water...only to remember that the suspect was in handcuffs. Setting the glass down, he grumbled and unlocked the silver cuffs. Handing the musician the glass of water, Booker returned to his creaking chair.

"Hey, fuzz-dude, it's getting' kinda stuffy in here. Could you open a window or something?" K.K. asked after a short silence and a sip of water.

Booker looked around, scratching the back of his head with a round paw. "Well, Mr. Totakeke, I would, but...we don't have any...windows. Sorry..."

"Perhaps you could crack the door open a bit, man." The musician added, panting profusely (though not sanguinely).

"Oh...sure...that would be okay...I guess..." Booker grumbled and unlocked the door, keys jingling against his side. The door creaked open tantalizingly, letting in a fresh breeze of freedom.

The ticking clock seemed to echo as K.K. calculated his escape. Placing his glass much too close to the edge of the table, it didn't catch, tumbling to the tile floor and shattering at Booker's feet. Leaping from his chair, the rebel musician grabbed his guitar and bolted for the door, grimacing to himself as he heard Copper emerge form the back room and howl in anger at his escape. But K.K. had much more important things on his mind as the station, then the town, faded into the darkness on the railroad tracks behind him.

--

"Hey there, beautiful!" Camoforg chuckled hoarsely as the bell rang to signal his arrival in the Town Post Office.

Phyllis sighed, being sure not to reveal her amusement. "Hello, this is the Town Post Office. What do you want??" The rehearsed greeting enforced her stoicism.

"I've come to check on the progress of my enlistment package, ten-hut!"

"It arrived this morning"

As Phyllis walked to the back room to pick up the parcel from Camofrog's box, the soldier leaned on the counter and cleared his throat. "I'm really gonna miss this town."

The postal worker only grunted in response as she brought out the box. Camofrog took it without a word.

"See you next week for the move-out. Standard procedure, soldier." Phyllis stated, winking at the weathered frog.

Camofrog chuckled again, saluting before marching out. "About-face, ten-hut!" And he was gone.

But not for good. With a _shhhft_, a blank envelope slid under the door, preceded and followed by slight, quick footfall. A crash outside was accompanied by Camofrog's voice, and one other. A third voice frantically apologized, then was gone.

Camofrog returned, carrying a large box marked "FRAGILE" (with a freshly dented corner) that was apparently housing a rare fossil. Velma followed the frog in, adjusting her glasses and clutching her hands in worry. Her eyes were glued to the ground as though directions to her life were written at her feet. The goat approached the desk and sniffles before speaking in an awkward, nasally voice: "Um, excuse me, could you have this delivered to the Farway Museum Headquarters please?" Timidly, she placed a neatly-addressed envelope containing a voucher for the fossil on the counter before Phyllis.

The pelican sighed, eying up the large delivery. "On the side table, please, Camofrog." She ordered, and the load shook the counter as it came to rest. Taking the envelope, Phyllis waked over to the mail sacks and placed the envelope in one.

"I...I hope it comes back soon. If it's a new fossil, I'll be one step closer to opening my own museum!" Her eyes lit up behind thick blue lenses, and she smiled shyly.

"That's nice." Phyllis mumbled. "Is that all you need to mail, or what?"

"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry to--"

"Hey, Phyllis! Something fell on the floor over here!" Camofrog announced, studying the envelope that had been propelled under the door only minutes ago. The postal worker emerged form behind the counter--a rare occurrence--and snatched the envelope.

"I'll take care of this. It was never delivered." She hid it under the counter until she had ushered the couple out, glaring at them (and swearing them to a fearful secrecy), and filled out the delivery form for the large package. As if the letter was a bomb, Phyllis turned it gingerly in her wingtips as a thousand fears flooded her head--what could it be now? _I still have more time!_

...didn't she?

Luckily, a patron burst through the door and killed the moment. His azure wings were piled high with envelopes. "This is the Town Post--what the heck are you trying to pull, Ace?"

"AW, hey Phyll! I've been a-collectin' these protein shake labels for months now...and it's time to cash in! Mega Muscle-Loader Deluxe 5000 Jerkmatic, here we come, ace!" Dumping his letters all over the counter (and Phyllis) he shrugged. "Yo, can you even deliver all of these?" Ace inquired, scratching his buzzed crown.

"Ack!" _Where did His letter go!?_ Phyllis fought the envelopes to press the page button beside her. She needed Pete. Now.

Within minutes, heavy flapping could be heard...after colliding with the weather vane and squawking loudly, he opened the door, mailbag at his side. "Whoa! Look at all these here letters!" Pete exclaimed, in his peculiar accent. He had the same glow as Pelly, and was quite the gentleman...sometimes, too much so for Phyllis.

"Allow me to take these off your hands for you, miss." Pete smiled, loading up his bag.

"Gah—no, wait! Pete!!" Phyllis exclaimed, rooting through the pile as an oblivious Pete continued taking the potential-threats away.

"Hey now, this one doesn't have an address..." The delivery pelican paused, furrowing his brow. Phyllis nearly leaped over the pile, securing the precious message.

"I'll take care of it...finish up here, Pete. This is all...grab the fossil while you're at it." The pink pelican ordered, excusing herself to the stock room to open the blank envelope. Siting on a crate in the corner under the sole lightbulb, she pried open the envelope. A magazine horoscope fell out, identical to the most recent installment in her favorite magazine:

_Someone hides where you least_

_expect it. Water harbors danger._

_A stranger with a profitable vendetta_

_always finishes the job._

_Beware._

Setting the paper down, Phyllis stared it down, scrying its surface for answers. _Why the heck did He send me a cutout of my horoscope?_ The silence that had returned to the front room of the Post Office only amplified the tension. Then, her eyes locked on a tiny cutout in the bottom corner. **19?** The question mark was a new addition.

This couldn't be good.


	8. Chapter 7

. : C h a p t e r 7 – Tempest : .

_Dear Phyllis;_

_This year I'll be handling the seasonal_

_audits myself, heh hooorf. You can have_

_tonight off...think of it as a free personal day!_

_Take care,_

_His Excellency Mayor Gilligan F. Tortimer_

Phyllis only sighed, waving an idle wing to Pete before walking back into her bungalow. She placed the embossed letter and envelope on her pine table and grabbed the coffee pot form the counter, but hesitated on grabbing a mug and set the pot back in its place. Sleep was unrestful at best as a fourth bullet was shot into her chest..._19_...or was it? She still held the last threat in her vest—Phyllis had not changed before she fell asleep the night before. Furrowing her mauve brow, she balled it up and threw it in her trash can. iI'll fix him.../i Taking advice from the looming, sleepy clouds, Phyllis returned to her firm bed and stared at the ceiling until she fell back to sleep.

Without much to do on island evenings, Phyllis decided to head into town for a little, well-deserved shopping. The ferry ride was monotonous as usual--until Phyllis saw the hooded cat approach her on the rail.

"Uhm...hi there, ma'am." The cat's voice was nearly carried away on the choppy wind.

"Phyllis." The pelican corrected. She eyed the hooded figure suspiciously.

"Do you ride the ferry everyday, Phyllis?"

_OK, this girl is WAY too nosy!_ "Twice; it's the only way to and from the island." She looked out, sipping her coffee and staring out to sea.

"I see." The cat nodded, as if finally sure of something, and walked away. Phyllis watched her, meditating over the meeting, but was interrupted by the rocking boat and Kappn's voice over the intercom announcing their arrival at Animal Village.

--

The tiny windows of the Able Sister's shop were visible from the dock. The waves lapped playfully onto the sand, but Phyllis walked farther up the beach in the grass...despite being a pelican she really disliked water. The quaint cottage soon came into view, and Phyllis grabbed its charming, carved door handle and walked in.

"Welcome to the Able Sisters, where you are the famous—oh hi there, Phyllis! So nice to see you this evening!" A cheery Mabel greeted the pelican at her first step. Her cobalt quills messily crowned her head and fell to her back, but she was soft and pleasant-looking nonetheless. Smoothing the soft gingham apron around her waist, Mable approached Phyllis and gestured for her to take a look around.

"Anything new worth looking at, Mabs?" Phyllis asked, browsing over the crude neighbor-designed patterns.

"Why, Phyllis, all of these patterns are truly wonderful and unique!" Mable remarked, hands clasped and eyes aglow.

"...Carrie's most recent design is pretty nice, it's the one in the corner with the umbrellas." Sable chimed in, holding a cloth still under a slowing needle and gesturing with one paw. The older sister was of a earthen hue, eyes aged and tired from responsibility.

"Thanks, Sabl--Carrie!? Well, if ya' say so..." With that, Phyllis made her way to the corner to which Sable pointed. Resting there was one of the most beautiful things Phyllis had ever seen. The umbrella was purple and black, accented with subtle pink lace and ivory pearls. It matched her outfit perfectly! "Why the heck is Carrie having such a hard time if she can make things like this!?" The pelican exclaimed, holding the umbrella by its white lacquered bumbershoot.

Mabel trotted over, also in awe of the design. "Wow, Phyllis, that really IS wonderful! Would you like to trade another pattern for it?"

Phyllis pondered aloud, "Despite all the bad in her life, she can still see the beauty..." Rummaging through her pockets, the pelican handed Mabel a bag of bells and an indigo-hued paisley umbrella. "This pattern should do. Give the bells to Carrie, too. Commission."

"Of course, Phyllis!" The porcupine was grinning from ear to ear which, considering the shape of her face, was a wide grin indeed.

Phyllis nodded, idly waving to the porcupine sisters and clicking her new umbrella on the floor. After the door shut behind her, Phyllis opened the new umbrella and walked back along the beach, trying to find the elusive "beauty"...but the town bell interrupted her thoughts. _K.K.'s in town tonight!_

Phyllis sprinted towards the train station.

--

"Heeeey, Phyllis. Nice to see you...here for a jam?" The white beagle smiled as he saw Phyllis come up the hill--his short tail was wagging behind him, though it was hidden by his guitar.

Phyllis cracked a grin before leaning against the Train Station pillar. "Yeah, I could use some tunes." She wanted badly to ask him about his run-in with Copper the other night, but she held her tongue as K.K. strummed his guitar idly and spoke.

"I've been thinking about what you said last week, dude. Deep stuff. I've got a special jam for you...wanna hear?"

Phyllis almost blushed, though it was impossible to see it under her makeup. "Sure." She murmured.

The beagle began with the well-known power chords to his popular tune, K.K. Rock. It was one of Phyllis' personal favorites. But, when he began to sing, the lyrics were...well, Phyllis was more absorbed than she ever had been:

_She walks slowly_

_Glancing at me_

_My spine tingles_

_Her eyes show no fear_

_Standing so tall_

_High above all_

_Her own leader_

_She gives to no one_

_Rise...before him...Staring down the barrel..._

_(Lock, Load, Bang!)_

_Sweet escape was_

_Temporary_

_When he returns_

_She must stand again_

_Fuel the hatred_

_Break your silence_

_Pick yourself up_

_Stare him down_

_Rise...before him...Staring down the barrel..._

_(Lock, Load, Bang!)_

_Her heart burns her up inside_

_She sips her cold coffee, moves on_

_Leaving behind what's broken_

_She can't beat him_

_He endures it_

_Lives forever_

_Holds on to hatred_

_She has not yet_

_Earned her freedom_

_Fatal flowers_

_Hold her in his prison_

_Rise...before him...Staring down the barrel..._

_(Lock, Load, Bang!)_

K.K. finished with a final strum, it echoed through the trees and galloped away on a quick breeze. Phyllis could hardly believe her own emotions...someone had actually listened, cared...she felt a tear run down her cheek, carrying a spot of her eyeshadow with it. He made her brave...heroic almost. Recognized. Turning to the musician, she wiped a feather across her cheek and winked at him.

"Thanks. It means a lot." She said softly, sipping her coffee (which was cold by now).

"Solid, Phyll. Glad you dig it. It's nice to jam with you." He smiled, scratching behind one ear and shaking his head. His tail audibly thumped once or twice on his box.

"Totakeke..."

"Yeah?"

"What happened the other night at the Police Station?"

K.K.'s eyes turned to the ground, looking for the right words. "Copper's always had it out for me, man. He;s not jivin' with my lifestyle, yanno? One crazy dog, man, one crazy dog." He wanted to warn Phyllis about Copper's suspicions, but the musician was in enough trouble himself to become tangled in her case.

"I see." Phyllis frowned. _That wasn't the answer I was looking for_, she thought to herself.

"Be careful, OK? That Copper dude has plans for you...he knows..." K.K. confessed, packing his guitar and stool.

Phyllis' eyes widened, she covered her mouth with one wing. "What!? But...how? It—it wasn't you, was it?" She was nearly panicking. Could she really trust no one?

"Phyll, it wasn't me, man, I promise! He's with the fuzz, he's got connections. Just...be careful. He'll go to anything to get his way." The musician nodded sincerely, pulling a small black object from his pocket. "Here's the aircheck for K.K. Pink. It's one-of-a-kind, man, so don't lose it. Keep jammin'...see you next week, Phyll."

"I can't wait, K.K." Phyllis waved to him, turning on her own heels as he did on his. She looked back over her shoulder to see him one last time, but he was already gone.

--

Phyllis eyed the ground as she walked past Nook's and the houses of sleepy neighbors. At the gurgle of the Wishing Well, she lifted her head, fishing for that characteristic Bell...but all of her change was in the bag she had left to Carrie with Mabel. _Drat._ She furrowed her brow, feeling guilty at depriving the well. However, a small tent with light escaping from its base caught her eye. It bore a yellow leaf logo on its door flap...similar to the Tanuki leaf, yet different.

With a sigh and a chuckle, Phyllis mumbled, "Crazy Redd". She had known him from her old life, through her husband...but who knew the fox would come all the way out here? She approached the shady tent with strange comfort and rapped on its "door".

"Ho now, who's there? This is a very high-end store, members-only...I can't let you in without a password..." The fox shrewdly mumbled something about the cops, waiting for a response.

"It's Phyllis." The "door" rose before her and she stepped in. "Cute little place here, Redd."

"Phyllis...it's good to see you again! What brings you to my fine shop after all these years, cousin?" The fox clapped, guiding the pelican to his wares.

She sighed, taking a look around. "Oh, just visiting an old friend." She shifted her wings in per pockets...Redd caught sight of her treasure, glinting in the candlelight.

"Could it be!? Phyllis, how did you come across such a fine piece? I've been in the business for a long time...I knew It existed but I couldn't believe it until now! Words simply cannot describe, it seems. Ten thousand? Twenty? Fifty?" The fox spoke quickly, scampering around Phyllis and gesturing wildly with his hands.

"It's not for sale...unless you would like a demonstration." Phyllis spoke coldly, hand in her pocket, and shot a deathly cold glare at the salesman. She took a step towards him, he quickly withdrew.

"Now now, cousin! No need to get angry!" He waved his hands in front of him, backing against the tent wall. "P-p-please, take a look around...I'm sure something I have will please you!"

She backed away, composing herself. She walked to the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm not interested." Phyllis left without entertaining another word. It was time for her to head home.

--

Kappn's ferry sat like a giant swan at the dock, bobbing as waves rolled under it. The moon was high and bright, casting silver all over the sea. Phyllis walked to the back of the line, where she saw Ace and Velma waiting before her.

"Duuude, it's Phyllis! Hey there! What's taking you to the island?" Ace grinned, placing a wing on Phyllis' shoulder. Velma turned around and smiled at the pelican, nodding affably.

Pulling out her umbrella to shelter her feathers from the wins, Phyllis shrugged the wing from her shoulder. "I live there." She replied curtly.

"Fascinating...Ace is helping me with a new excavation..." Velma began, hooves clicking shyly, she opened a large book and pointed to a large dinosaur on one of the pages. "The Gigantosaurus...thought to be the largest of all the dinosaurs...

"Yeah, she's the brains, and I'm...I'm...the other stuff. Yeah MUSCLES!" Ace added, flexing proudly and showing off the large pack of equipment on his back.

Phyllis chuckled sardonically.

"Come on, Carl, we're going to miss the ferry!" A shout was heard from the direction of Carrie's house: the kangaroo could be seen scooping her son from the sand and putting him in her pouch before hopping to the back of the line. "Oh, hello there, Phyllis!" She exclaimed, flashing a sanguine yet tired smile.

"Hi, Carrie...hello to you too, Carl." Phyllis replied, twirling her umbrella. "Carrie, I saw--"

"My design! Phyllis, you liked my design!?" Carrie exclaimed, hands over her mouth in surprise.

"It's really good, Carrie. You could go far with your talent...forget child support, you could take good care of your son if you got in with Gracie." Phyllis half-smiled, gently rubbing the lace on her parasol with her wingtips.

"Why, thank you, Phyllis, it means a lot, really..." Carrie blushed, but was startled by a loud _click_ from behind her.

The group of animals looked back and saw a hooded cat hurriedly hanging up a pay phone and scampering through the sand to the docks. She lost her footing and fell into the sand with a soft gasp. Carrie hopped back and helped the cat up and to the back of the line.

"S--sorry about that, miss." The cat apologized, wiping the sand off of her black cape. Carrie consoled her, at which Phyllis grimaced and turned around.

_Something's awfully fishy about all of this--_ But Phyllis' thoughts were interrupted by the ferry's horn and the boarding of the line of passengers, a foreboding wind pushing her forward up the ramp.


	9. Chapter 8

. : [C h a p t e r 8 - Gone Wrong: Part I ] : .

The ferry rocked sternly on the waves and its deck was cheery with the chatter of idle animals passing the time. Though the sky above the ship was clear, shadowed storm clouds rolled in the distance. Static over the PA made an ear-splitting backup to Cpt. Kapp'n and his shanties:

_**I must declare lass**_

_**Please do not despair**_

_**Strong I be, safe with me**_

_**I'll get you there...**_

Phyllis, Carrie (and Carl), Velma, and Ace were grouped together on one of the rails.

"Uhm, yes, so I'm starting a museum collection, but the fossils are too heavy for me, blih, and I cannot afford movers without sufficient revenue, so..." Velma began, adjusting her glasses.

Ace struck a macho pose and patted Velma's shoulder (she nearly lost her balance). "Your old bones are NO match for these muscles, ace!" Carrie giggled, putting a paw over her mouth and holding Carl's tightly in the other as he gazed under the rail at the sea. Phyllis rolled her eyes and grunted.

"My my, Ace, you certainly DO look strong! How do you keep up with..." The kangaroo mother's voice faded out as Phyllis caught motion in the corner of her eye. Across the deck, she saw the mysterious hooded cat edge across the rail toward the engine room door. Quickly spinning open its hatch, she leaped down the stairs and a _boom _was followed a low grunt.

Phyllis sprinted toward the open door, coffee sloshing from her mug. Her feet clicked down the cold metal staircase, barely touching it as she nearly flew down. Darkness swallowed her with each fleeting step, tangling her in pipes and wires in the ferry's bowels. She froze in her tracks at the two yellow orbs that greeted her with malice.

_I know those eyes..._

---

"...hello, Phyllis." The soft voice echoed in the hollow engine room, overpowering the humming machinery around it. Under the figure's foot, a groan was silenced by a stomping sound and the _crack_ of bone.

"I know you've been the one delivering His threats...tell me what business you have in this!" Taken aback, Phyllis tried to coat her voice in courage as she called out to the figure.

The pipes hissed mercilessly. "I _belong_ to Him...it is my duty to carry out His wishes..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Phyllis' shriek echoed sharply off the metal hull. The hooded figure merely laughed. "...and He wishes you **dead**." A black, sleeved arm was extended toward the pelican, a convicting finger at its end.

"I have no business with him..."

A _click_ could be heard in the silence following. The glowing eyes narrowed (_I SWEAR I know those eyes...)_.

"Not anymore."

Phyllis could barely step aside as the hooded figure darted past her, bolting up the steps. Pushing off the wall, the pelican followed, losing the slight grasp she had on the stranger's coat. On deck it had begun to rain: the hooded figure darted around the puddles toward the end of the deck with Phyllis close on its heels.

"Mommy!" Carl's voice was blown across the deck. Phyllis turned to look at the joey--her foot skidded on a puddle and she hit the deck, shattering her coffee mug as it slipped from her wing and landed where the stranger's feet had been a moment ago. The hooded figure threw Carrie to the side, leaped over the rail, and began a brisk butterfly stroke toward shore, fading into the pouring rain.

"Carrie, are you all right, ace?" Ace leaned over and swiftly righted the kangaroo, who grasped her son tightly in her arms against the escalating storm. Phyllis looked over, furrowing her brow and punching the deck with her fist. Just then, a rumble could be heard below the deck, breaking up through the engine room and splitting the deck as if it were glass.

"Look out--!"

"Blih!"

"MOMMY!!"

The cracking echoed all across the waves, which swallowed the debris hungrily. The deck had split in half, barely holding above the water through its inner workings: tons of cable, wire, and steel. Laying on the rails, Phyllis inched over to Velma and Ace. Every movement pulled at the ferry's bones, threatening to give at any moment.

"Where's Carrie!?" Phyllis screamed over the wind.

Ace smoothed back his wet crown, quickly kissing a bulging bicep. "I dunno, ace! Not even my bulging biceps could hold her on the rail..."

"Blih...I barely held on myself..." Velma confessed, squinting through her rain-covered glasses.

_Crack!!_

The cables gave, and two ships now plunged into the waves.

---

"PHYLLIIIIIIIISSSSS!"

"CAAARRIEEEEE!"

Phyllis' head barely bobbed above the waves, her mauve wings finally able to grasp a long wooden tabletop...which she did with dear life. She kicked through the swells and scoured the horizon for Carrie's mane. The sky mocked her, blowing her voice away and howling with lightning. Time passed like grains of sand, and the search became more and more hopeless.

Laying her head on the board, Phyllis wailed loudly over the wind, closing her eyes and clinging to the tabletop. She was tossed around by the growing waves, squinting through the salty spray. Shivering, she could barely feel her limbs when a cold, furry tuft grazed against her foot. Slowly, she turned a cramping neck to look down.

It was Carrie!

Clinging to her son for dear life, her body slowly began to surface. One of her eyes had been whipped over by a snapped cable, glazed over white and red. Carl was hugging her arm, his jaw scarred in the same manner. Phyllis grabbed Carrie's dress and pulled the broken family onto her makeshift raft. Carrie's skin was ice cold and her throat backed up with water, but Carl's chest rattled weakly. The pelican wormed Carl out of his mother's arms with all her strength, laying him in her saturated lap.

"Carl, can you hear me? Carl?" She pleaded, stroking a seaweed-filled mane from the joey's face.

"Get them..." He coughed, the wound on his lip growing. "...hurt my...mommy...Phyllis..." Slowly, the last breath left him and his body went limp. Phyllis rested him back in Carrie's arms, pulling the two closer to her. As the waves picked up, she struggled to hold the two bodies on the table, cursing the sea, sky, and everything in between. A swell flipped the table upside down and her broken family was no more.

"Why? Why, why WHYYY?" The lone pelican screamed to the heavens, clambering back onto the wood disc. _If I hadn't chased after His minion, Carrie and Carl would still be alive, I let them fall..._ Pulling her shaking knees into her chest, Phyllis gripped the table with one rigid wing. _How could I have been so stupid? Carrie had so much to live for, and I, the bitter old bird, survived instead. Pah, it should have been me...why couldn't it be me in those waves? _

_Why do the good die young?_

Phyllis' eyes were too dried out to cry, caked with salt as her entire body was. The rain slowed to a drizzle, tapping like a toneless lullaby on the tabletop. In the distance, one ray of moonlight cracked through the clouds, spotlighting the gray ocean. Giant fish passed under the ship, their silhouettes visible even in the blackest night.

Her mind droned on with the endless rain, the skies mourning the land's loss, until consciousness slipped from her frozen wingtips.

_Kill him, kill him, kill him..._


	10. Chapter 9

. : [ C h a p t e r 9 - Gone Wrong: Part II ] : .

"**_I have sailed, sailed the seven seas..._**

**_visiting tourist traps..._**

**_in many, many countries.._**.--oh!"

The sea rocked Phyllis' makeshift raft peacefully in the evening light. Waves flaunted their white caps as fish danced below in small schools. Phyllis' eyes creaked open, still caked with salt around the edges. She was staring into two large, hollowed wooden eyes and an evil, splintered smile.

"AAAAIEEE!" Phyllis screeched, lifting a chilled heel to the wooden mask. It flew backward, smacking its holder in the face.

A white, nautically-clad seagull shook the pain from his beak, eyes shut tight. Still, he smiled, cocking a bushy brown eyebrow. "Hmm? You don't like souvenirs?" He turned for a moment, pushing the mask until it shrank into his pocket.

"No!" Phyllis stood, on wobbly legs. "Who the heck are you? I...I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I..." Both of her wings plunged into her pockets, only to find nothing. "Where did--"

"It's Gulliver. And well...that's a real shame, because _this_ one's a beaut." The seagull smirked, spinning a gold object around one of his wingtips.

Phyllis' eyes narrowed. "You...thief!"

"Aye, but I found 'er in the sea...this belongs to you? She was in the wreckage of the ol' ferry: saw her gleam from so high up in the--"

"Name your price."

"From a fine-plumed lass like yourself, I'll settle for...a kiss."

"..."

Gulliver pointed to his beak, closing his eyes and grinning.

Sighing with resolve, Phyllis walked across the swaying wood. Placing a wing on his left shoulder to steady herself, she leaned in and kissed the side of his beak. In one instantaneous motion, she grabbed the captive treasure from his other wing and slapped him hard across the face with it! _Patchoui!_ _Meh. Serves you right!_ Gulliver spiraled backwards into the water, surfacing with a disoriented look on his face.

"Well, I see you're right an' spry, so I best be back on the fly!" The seagull said, grinning and flapping his wings to pull himself up into the air.

"Wait, but how do I get back home?" Phyllis called up to him desperately, snapping out of a small fit of rage.

"That's not for me to say, lass! Take caaare!"

And with that, Gulliver was high into the clouds and out of sight.

---

Carrie and Carl are dead, I'm alone out in the middle of nothing—wait! As long as I stay out here, He'll never find me! But...He found me at work after all these years, and He found me on the boat. No, there's no hope of escaping Him. I may as well do his job for him: does living even matter anymore, after I've let everyone down...?[/i]

Sternly cleaning off her treasure with the back of her white neckerchief, Phyllis' gaze snapped to the horizon as a hoarse call echoed in her direction. She had been silent since Gulliver's departure, with only the sounds of the ocean to keep her company, withdrawing into herself like a paranoid hermit.

"Aye, me hearty sea-lass!" Kapp'n was barely visible on the horizon, standing in a small brown craft with two other vague forms. The waves had escalated, throwing anything and everything into a merciless waltz with the sea. "We be ridin' back to town, the water's too choppy to get to yer island!"

Phyllis stood up, easily keeping her balance with beaten sea legs, and silently watched the rowboat approach. It's starboard side (if rowboats even really HAD sides) bumped up twice against the tabletop raft, but kept steady and close. Kapp'n offered the paddle of his oar to Phyllis, who grabbed it in both wings and slowly climbed into the rowboat.

"It's good, blih, to see you're okay, Phyllis..." Velma commented, looking up at the pelican from clasped hands. Her voice was even more monotone than normal: tired but sincere.

Ace's eyes widened, he turned his eyes from Phyllis to the petite goat. "Ace! Are you kidding me, Velma? She looks tossed down like an old sandbag!" Eyes locked on the wooden-plank floor, Phyllis silently took a seat on the bench next to Ace. Her expression was and she propped her head up on bent wings: she didn't notice Ace and Velma watching her keenly.

"So, we're all ready to sail back to Animal Village, aye?" Kapp'n had turned around, observing his passengers. Phyllis waved a wing idly, the other two passenger's nodded. With that, the turtle dipped his ore into the water and the little craft bobbed slowly along the waves in a direction Phyllis hoped would lead to shore.

_**Oh listen ye**_ __

_**To my secret shanty**_ __

_**About the mean lady**_ __

_**Who hurt me**_

_**She took me old boat**_ __

_**And set her afloat**_ __

_**Just because curt I was**_

_**With the ol' goat**_

_**Be ye brave me wee fish**_ __

_**Don't squeal out or squish**_

_**Don't deter: search fer yer**_ __

_**heart's fondest wish**_ __

_**Find yer heart's wish...**_

---

"So, you're in on it, too?" Phyllis asked point-blank.

Kapp'n was sitting on the edge of the boat, buffing the scum off of his oar with a rough cloth.. Ace and Velma has left for their homes, but Phyllis had stayed behind. She wanted answers.

"Nay, Phyllis. I couldn't betray my course on th' sea. The little lady had some sort of crazy scheme, but I take no part in them suspicious activities." The turtle shook his head, then hopped down from his seat and looked out to sea, turning his back to the pelican. "An' I can't even fix what's she's done to me ferry, neither...say, Phyllis."

She grunted in acknowledgment.

"We never found Carrie an' Carl, did we?"

"No."

"Aye." A pause. "Well, as they always say: when she takes them, she takes the best."

"I'll keep that in mind." Phyllis stood up and fixed her clothes before stepping onto the dock. She turned around one last time to look at Kapp'n, then began to walk off. "Thanks."

_Did the lass just smile?_ The sea turtle cleared his throat. "Yar, I'm just curious, could a lass like yerself fall fer a turtle like me?"

Phyllis only chuckled keenly and walked away.

---

The sea had calmed to a gentle lull against the sandy shore, with only the occasional flutter of a fish's tail cresting a rolling wave. Phyllis was walking to no place in particular, though she knew she needed a place to stay the night in town. Her mind wandered everywhere and nowhere, counting the days, years.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black-hooded figure sitting against a lazy palm tree. It seemed that the animal saw Phyllis at the same time: it sprang up and took a defensive, though fearful, stance. Yellow eyes beneath the garment's shadow darted left and right, a black tail twitched anxiously.

"Don't. Move." Phyllis ordered, pulling her treasure from her pocket, spinning it around one wingtip and cocking it.

It was the gold revolver!

The yellow eyes opened wide as full moons. _There it is, His revolver!_ A little heart fluttered wildly inside the hooded cat's chest. _The smooth curve of the metal, it's cool touch in my paw..._ She recalled wielding this very gun on her first mission, with Him always at her side. _It's arced shot, echoing barrel, minimum recoil...it's the perfect weapon. It's the treasure I've tirelessly searched to return to Him, to win His solid trust...to win His heart! _ "Return that to me immediately!" The small voice grew with the conviction of her words.

"What, this?" Phyllis taunted, her eyes pointing down to the revolver. It's nose was aimed straight for the hooded cat. "I can give you a little souvenir to take back to Him...if you make it that far..." Her voice was low, sadistic. She loaded a bullet, three clicks. There was only one more bullet in the gun. She had to hit her mark.

"No! Please..." The voice pleaded, becoming small again.

The pelican's gaze didn't falter. "That line never worked for me."

The hooded cat turned heel at a preternatural speed, darting towards town. Phyllis kept her aim steady on the figure, but she knew better than to shoot into Animal Village. She let a shot dive into the sand at the cat's heels, spraying white in all directions, but nothing more. A warning. Her body was frozen that way for a long time, moonlight playing on gold metal the only motion around. Eventually, the barrel fell, and Phyllis numbly returned it to its cradle under her vest...

The adrenaline flowing through her began to wane, and Phyllis realized that she would need to rest. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an abandon house sitting calmly down the beach. It's little red door beckoned her in. _Carrie..._

Phyllis' next moment of awareness, and she was standing in the open doorway. Moonlight spilled in all around, lighting the humble abode around Phyllis' silhouette. The pine table was still littered with crayons from the post worker's last visit, little doodles sprawled on the floor around the chair. She approached slowly, accidentally cracking the fat pink crayon under her heel. Jumping back, Phyllis froze for a long while and studied the space. Carl's chair was piled high with picture books so he could reach his drawings. Cups of tea, some empty, some half-full, dotted every open surface.

By an armchair along one wall was a stack of newspapers marked with red pen. Phyllis slowly lowered herself into the red cushion, pressed down with hours and days and weeks of occupancy. Every page marked with red spoke of a certain Oxford. Oxford, Oxford, Oxford. Articles on neighboring town residency, notices for child support, and...a mugshot? There was a formal trial for domestic abuse... 'after which Oxford and his spouse separated. She took their son, 4, with her.' Depicted in gray ink was Oxford, a rough-looking bull with wide nostrils and a stern brow. Phyllis cursed under her breath and threw the paper to the ground, shouting in the empty house with wicked anger.

She walked across the room into the 'kitchen', standing solidly still and listening to the silence. _I can almost hear Carl's little babbling as he draws...feel the warmth of Carrie and her tea..._ Next to the doorway to the only bedroom was a short, white refrigerator, but Phyllis wasn't even thinking about food. She fumbled for the light on the wall by the doorway, finally pulling the black beaded chain of a cabana floor lamp.

"Phyllis! It's good to see you, but...what are you doing here at this hour?" A kind voice asked.

"...Carrie??" Phyllis called out. She could see the roan kangaroo at the side of her bed, plain as day, but, how?

Carrie smiled, bowing her head slightly. "I'm sorry I don't have any tea on for you, little o--"

"Oh, Carrie! It's all right...but you..."

"Please, have a seat. I was just going through some old things here..."

Carrie sat on her bed, patting the spot next to her and beckoning to Phyllis. Carl was bundled under the blankets on the other side of the bed, his little ears flat against a white pillow. On the floor were scattered old boxes of various design, all holding keepsakes. Carrie lifted one of them and gently raised its hinged lid, pulling a tied bundle of letters from the red velvet lining. She untied the bundle on her lap and carefully slid a letter from one of the envelopes.

_Dearest Carrie,_

_Work has kept me away from_

_home for so long, but I'm always_

_thinking of you and little Carl._

_I'll be home soon._

_Oxy 3_

The paper was very old and the ink fading. "It wasn't long until I learned from a cousin that he was thinking about someone else that whole time, and seeing her, too. He never came home..." Carrie's voice cracked and she put her paws to her eyes, weeping quietly. "But he always wrote me these letters, as if a part of him still loved me...they healed the sting of his hand on my cheek, gave me hope for Carl, little one."

Phyllis skimmed through the other letters, all reading in a similar fashion. "But, he abused you..."

"But he loved me! All the quiet nights we spent together...it was his work giving him all that stress..." Carrie was clearly delusional, fabricating memories to match the letters, to cover the bruises.

"No, Carrie, no...he wasn't right. You're better off on your own. I know it hurts, but you have to be strong." Phyllis looked into Carrie's deep ebony eyes.

Carrie paused, smiling weakly and pushing the letters onto the floor. "You're right. I will be strong. Thank you, Phyllis, you always made me feel better. You always understood, little one."

The kangaroo hugged Phyllis tightly, but when Phyllis hugged back, no one was there. Her arms were empty, and the letters were strewn on her lap and around her feet. Carl's head no longer poked out from under the blankets, and the sheets were cold.

Phyllis fell onto the bed, her head sinking into Carrie's pillow, Carrie's smell, and cried herself to sleep.

---


End file.
